


Four drinks that Henry Gondorff had, and one that he didn't

by Giglet



Category: The Sting (1973)
Genre: 100-1000 Words, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-12
Updated: 2007-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 04:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giglet/pseuds/Giglet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry drinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four drinks that Henry Gondorff had, and one that he didn't

**Drink #1**  
He was with Billie the night they heard about Luther Coleman's murder. He hadn't seen Luther in years, but that didn't make much difference. They'd been friends, they'd kept in touch. Henry sent Christmas presents to his kids, for Christ sake. Getting roughed up every now and then was just part of the grifting life, just like occasional stints in jail. But Luther had been a gentle man, getting on in years, and to hear that he'd died like that…

Billie went to the bar for whiskey. That night, Henry'd done his best to crawl into the bottle and pull the cork in after him.

\---  
**Drink #2**  
The kid was as good as Luther had said in those letters, but Hooker was still a rookie in the big con. He still had plenty of tells, and he hadn't learned to watch people without darting his eyes around. If he was ever going to make a decent insideman, he'd have to learn to read a room without being quite so obvious about it.

Henry watched Hooker pretend to innocence about passing bad money. For those with eyes to see, the kid was telegraphing his guilt. A quirk of Twist's mustache showed Henry that he'd caught it. The kid was all wide eyes and sheer balls, which Twist didn't think much of. But Henry liked it. He lifted his beer bottle and hid his smile.

\---  
**Drink #3**  
Hooker was going to be the death of him. First, the kid had damned the torpedoes to steam full ahead at Lonnegan, and now it turns out he'd been hiding information about Snyder.

Henry poured himself another shot of rye while Billie cleaned up the kid's face. "You can't treat your friends like marks, kid."

He thought he'd liked the balls on Hooker, but now he wasn't so sure. This was a complication they didn't need. They'd have to handle Snyder somehow that made use of Hooker's strengths. Henry could look after himself, but the kid either didn't understand the risks or didn't care.

Whether the kid wanted it or not, Henry was giving him a bodyguard. Maybe it was better not to say anything about that – it would be a lot easier for Joey to tail him, if the kid didn't know about it.

(Henry tried not to think about the times he'd held out on his mentor, back when he'd been younger than Hooker, and feeling his oats. He tried not to see the similarities between them. He largely failed.)

\---  
**Drink #4**  
The day of the sting on the big con. Usually, Henry loved the tension, loved the excitement of seeing all the pieces fall into place. But they were playing for their lives here, and Hooker should have come to the store by now. Attitude was everything, at this point in the con. Henry had a cigar in his jaw and a highball in hand, more for color than anything, keeping his players calm and focused just with his presence (and that was something else he'd have to teach Hooker, if the kid ever arrived).

The door opened, but it wasn't Hooker who came in but Joey. Joey shouldn't be anywhere near here today, and he shouldn't be anywhere without Johnny. Appalled, Henry pulled the cigar from his mouth and put down his drink before he spilled it.

He wasn't able to hide his relief when Johnny stepped into view. He didn't try. And he left the drink, forgotten, on the bar.

\---  
**Drink #5**  
Johnny had caught up to him before Henry got out the door, bag and coat ready to come with him. In the euphoria that followed a successful con, Henry had been more than willing to let him tag along down to the station and onto the first train leaving town.

Now, sitting across from each other in their sleeper compartment, Henry considered the matter a little more soberly. By pulling the con, he'd given up his low profile and a sweet deal at Billie's – not for Johnny but for Luther's memory. Now he was back on the road, back in constant danger from the Feds, and back in the game. With a junior partner, if he wanted it.

He hadn't been in the market for a partner. After a big con, there wasn't usually anything he wanted but a good smoke, a good drink, and a good lay. He stopped grinning at Johnny for just long enough to pull out a new cigar, a fat, fancy Havana that he'd been saving for the occasion, and lit it up.

Johnny seemed to take this as a signal to pull a bottle from his case. It was champagne, real champagne-from-France. Henry figured it must have come from behind the bar in the store. He wondered when Johnny'd had time to grab it. Still, the kid seemed to feel that some ceremony was appropriate, and Henry was willing to go along.

"We need some toasts," the kid was saying, with a tone that he kept carefully light. "To Luther?" The kid was looking away when he said it. He opened the bottle over the sink, careful of the cork, and poured some into each of the two glasses there. Johnny handed over the glass, made sure their fingers touched, left his hand on the glass for a split second longer than he needed to.

"Sure," Henry agreed, "To Luther," and sipped the fizzy while Johnny gulped his. But Henry had already saluted Luther plenty before even meeting Johnny. He was inclined to look forward. He reached out an arm to snag the bottled and poured more for both of them. "How about, to your first big con?"

They toasted again. This time, Johnny took it a little more slowly. He was watching Henry through his lashes as he drank, with that shy smile. Johnny hadn't looked at anyone else that way since they'd met. Henry was surprised to realize that he knew that because Henry had been watching and wanting Johnny, even if he hadn't admitted it to himself.

Johnny would make a fine grifting partner. He was offering more than that, too, if that look was an offer. Henry thought it was. And that was fine with him.


End file.
